What a Feast
by GatnissShamyClato
Summary: Alternate feast scene in the 74th Hunger Games! Clove's POV, Rated T for violence. Please R&R!


**A/N: so I was reading yet another depressing clato fic the other day and I just can't get over how much I wanted Cato and Clove to win the games. I wrote another fic where they win the games but I just skipped straight to the end in that one so I really wanted to have a go at re-writing the feast scene with an alternate ending. I really** **really hope you guys like this and I would love love love to hear any feedback you have :)**

The morning birds chirping as the sun slowly rises, shedding pale golden light over the arena, is enough to tell me that it's time. The feast.

I tighten the elastic in my hair and smooth down my raven ponytail, glancing at Cato beside me with a smirk.

"Ready to do this?" he asks me before I can get a word out.

My grin widens as he speaks my head tilting up to look at his face. His usually perfect hair is a mess thanks to our sleepless nights, sticking up in tufts with dirt staining the blond strands muddy brown.

"Do you think I am?"

His smile matches me own as he leans down, lips brushing mine.

"I think you're ready for anything, crazy girl."

I shrug in agreement as he barks out a throaty chuckle.

We're going to have to split up for the feast – it's too big for both of us to stay as one. Cato is taking the perimeter around the trees, hopefully preventing people from crossing the border into the clean stretch of grass where the cornucopia is located. I'll be waiting closer to the loaded table, able to shoot down anyone who comes even close to me with a knife. It's a risky strategy but I'm positive Cato and I can make it work. No one will be leaving this feast with their bags if I can help it.

Mostly, though, I'm looking out for Everdeen, the fire girl. She got away from me once at the bloodbath – I won't let her escape me this time.

We creep out of the protective camouflage of the trees slowly but before I can even think about killing anyone, Cato grabs me by the back of my water-proof, evergreen jacket, yanking me back towards him and mashing his lips to mine. The kiss is wild and rough and hungry but still tender and beautiful. His mouth is warm and soft under mine; he tastes of wood-smoke and berries and reminds me of all the things I love; the metallic chrome smell back in District 2, the feel of Cato's silky skin on me in the dark of the night, the glimmer of adoration that sparkles in his eyes when he looks at me. We both know that there is a possibility that we won't come out of this alive, that something could go wrong at this feast like the gamemakers want it to. I grip on to his broad frame just a bit tighter as the thought flashes through my mind and I feel him react to my touch in ways I can't possibly describe.

"Are you sure we should split up?" he wonders a second later once our lips have disconnected and I gasp for a breath of air.

"Yes," I nod, breathing hard. "We have to. You know that."

He shuts his eyes and lowers his face to mine, our foreheads touching lightly. His skin on mine causes an electric current to pulsate through my entire bloodstream, fizzing like soda does when you've shaken it up.

"You're right, I know you're right, but… I hate leaving you. Anything could happen."

I shake my head, taking his chin in my hand and pushing his face up so I'm looking straight at him. His oceanic eyes are hard edged with worry.

"We're going to be fine," I tell him in a stern tone, my voice laced with confidence. "Trust me." The last part came out in a whisper.

Cato's breath comes out in a huff but he doesn't argue. The sun is bright now; bright enough for us to start moving.

"Let's get this done. Make Everdeen suffer. And if you need anything, if there's even a hint of trouble I want you to call me."

My eyes roll again unconsciously but I nod to keep him satisfied (didn't he know I could protect myself?). He seems to notice my blasé attitude to something that is so important to him and takes my shoulders in his large hands.

"I mean it, Clove. _Anything_. Just call and I'll come running. Pride isn't important enough to get in the way. Not today."

I swallow at his words and nod again, with more meaning this time, promising myself that I'll keep my word.

"I will. I promise."

We share one last meaningful look, Cato stroking a hand over my cheek, his fingers trembling slightly. Without another word, he takes off running around the outer circle of trees to the opposite end of the cornucopia. A second or two later he's completely gone from sight. I turn back and look straight ahead, watching the large flat of land ahead of me. Templesmith had said the feast was a dawn – so where was it?

Suddenly there's a grumbling sound, the ground before the mouth of the horn splits in two and a table appears. I take a moment to sweep the outer trees with a quick glance. I can't see anyone but I'm sure the other tributes are out there, watching. I look back and see that the cornucopia ahead is loaded with four backpacks – one tiny and bright orange marked 12, another small, round and coloured grassy green was for District 5 and the remaining bags were large and black; one for Thresh and the other for Cato and myself. The table is laid with a milky white cloth which the bags are upon, fine silk no doubt. My eyes roll unintentionally – what a nice touch. Just another way for the Capitol to flaunt their affluence in unnecessary ways.

It's time to go.

Before I can move, a flash of orange flame-like hair catches my attention and I watch in horror as the redheaded girl from five dashes across the grass, scooping up the green bag as she did so and disappearing in a second. I have to shake my head to make sure that I haven't imagined it. How did she pass through Cato and I so fast?

I growl, digging my feet into the ground and pushing off my heels; charging fast as a cheetah with all the grace of a gazelle until I reached the back of the cornucopia. I'm more silent than I've ever been as I watch Fireface dashing to her own small bag, braid flying behind her in her haste. She won't be getting past me. I peep around the side of the huge building in front of me and I see her running past the silk-covered table, small orange back tucked in the crook of her arm.

I step out, flinging a small knife as I do so and watch in pleasure as her expression widens into a mask or pure shock… quickly fading into horror. She manages to avoid the knife somehow; it does skim her forehead though, leaving a diagonal gash dribbling blood down her face.

I let out a snarl of frustration, charging forward. Katniss raises her bow, firing arrow after arrow towards me which I easily dodge.

A second later we collide in a smash, both falling to the ground. I drop the knife I'd been holding; Katniss losing grip of her bow at the same time. I grunt, pushing myself off of the ground and scrambling for the small blade. I manage to knock Fireface onto her back and pin her shoulders to the ground with my knees while she struggles and flails beneath me. I'm about to begin the process of ending her but it would seem that Katniss Everdeen has more strength than I'd thought, even with a bleeding head wound. She brings her head sharply up where it meets mine with a crack and I fall backwards with a scream.

That was it. I reach out and grip on to her ankle as she tries to flee the scene – she smacks down to the ground, _thud_. I aim my knife at her head but she's quick, dodging my blows by millimetres. I let out a cry of irritation as my blade digs into the grass once more rather than her flesh.

Finally Fireface falls on her back into a vulnerable position and I pounce on her, keeping her hands by her sides with the sharp edges of my boots and locking her in position by pressing my knife to the hollow of her throat. She freezes immediately once she feels the cool metal of the blade on her exposed skin. Wise.

"Where's your boyfriend, District 12?" I pant, short of breath. Her chest is rising and falling beneath me as a rapid pace as well. "Still hanging on?"

The taunting, the torturing… it's all part of the huge show that I know I have to put on for the Capitol audiences. I have no trouble finding an anger inside of me to fuel the attack, though; this girl has escaped me time and time again, she's exploded a tracker jacker nest right over my head in the hopes that it would kill me off. I'm perfectly alright with returning the favour.

"He's out there now. Hunting Cato," she tells me in a growl, before looking up and screaming his name. "Peeta!"

I slam my fist into her windpipe, her voice cutting off with a strained gurgle. That ought to shut her up. I can't help think over her words though for just a second. Peeta wouldn't be hunting Cato – Cato would easily have killed him by now. But what if Cato was preoccupied by the fiery District 5 girl, or Thresh – Peeta could have snuck past him and be waiting to come to Katniss's rescue. After looking around for a while, there's no sign of anyone. He's probably too cut up to even move, let alone save Fireface.

"Liar," I grin turning back to meet her horror-struck eyes. "He's nearly dead. Cato knows where he cut him. You've probably got him strapped up in some tree while you try to keep his heart going," I taunt before noticing the small bag in her hands. "What's in the pretty little backpack? That medicine for Lover Boy? Too bad he'll never get it."

Every word I'm saying is true. Mellark won't be getting his medicine, he deserves to die like the traitor he is.

I open up my jacket lined with lethal blades and carefully select the smallest, most dainty knife, twirling it in my fingers.

"I promised Cato if he let me have you, I'd give the audience a good show," I continue, her eyes locked on the curved blade in my hand. Good. She should be paying attention to what I'm about to do.

She struggles beneath me yet again, her entire body straining from the force of trying to throw me off but I only beam in repsonse. She barely moves an inch.

"Forget, District Twelve. We're going to kill you. Just like we did your pathetic little ally… what was her name? The one who hopped around in trees? Rue? Well first Rue, then you, and then I think we'll just let nature take care of Lover Boy. How does that sound?"

She snarls in my face but I barely acknowledge it.

"Now where to start?

I grin, smearing the blood around her forehead with my jacket sleeve. I look at her hate-filled face, pretending to deliberate where to begin the torture. She lifts her head and attempts to bite my hand but I pull away in fury, grabbing her braid and yanking it until her head smashes against the floor below her. Serves her right. Does she really think she can get out of this one? It's over for her and she knows it.

"I think… I think we'll start with your mouth," I purr, leaning down slowly with the small knife firmly in my grip.

Fireface stares me down, refusing to look away from my fiery glare. Well, fine. If she wants to stare at me as I end her life I'm not about to stop her.

"Yes, I don't think you'll have much use for your lips anymore," I muse, thinking about how the audience at home will be absolutely loving this. Every camera will be on me. All the people I know back in District 2… how proud they'll be. It fuelled me further. "Want to blow Lover Boy one last kiss?"

Katniss works up a mouthful of blood and saliva and spits it in my face. My face flushes red in anger – how _dare_ she try and humiliate me? I feel my entire body shaking in ire and hatred for this stupid Girl on Fire. I try to play cool, not to let her know just how much she gets to me.

"All right, then. Let's get started."

Fireface winces as if preparing for the pain to come and I can't help but smile. Finally, a response I like.

I lower the knife until it comes into contact with her face, the blade slicing through her skin like it was no stronger than melted butter. She lets out a sharp intake of breagth – '_ah_' – as the knife creates a trail going all the way around her lips, warm blood tricking down her chin. My smile widens and I dig harder into her face, getting closer and closer to her mouth. By this point there are tears stinging in her eyes, threatening to overflow but she keeps her lips clamped shut, determined not to make another sound. Well, we'd soon change that. I lift the knife off of her mouth and rip it down her cheek unexpectedly, creating a jagged line which split her cheekbone. Katniss emits a scream – so loud after a little while of silence that it shocks me – which echoes around the vast space. She struggles beneath me wildly again but soon stops when I take my pointed fingernails and rake them down her neck. Blood spots appear in the place of my hand when I take it away.

"Please," Katniss chokes out, her voice trembling. I can tell that she hates to see it, you can hear it in her tone. She hates to plead, she knows she should be stronger but she does it anyway.

"You're pathetic," I spit in her face.

How could _she_ have even been _considered_ to be a victor? So easy to kill… So weak.

"How do you think Lover Boy will like you without your famous braid?" I asked her with pursed lips.

Before she could properly process my question, I reached down and snatched up the elaborately twisted knot of hair, slicing it a couple of times near her head with a larger knife until it fell straight off and into my hands. I let out a manic giggle. If only Cato could see me now.

It's not as if I'm even hurting her, I'm just creating entertainment. Still, it doesn't stop her from gasping out a sob. The first droplet of water rolls down her cheek, seeping out the corner of her glassy eyes. She is losing a lot of blood – there isn't long left.

"Is it that important to you? Your looks?" I demand, lobbing the braid of autumn brown hair across the field. "I didn't know you were that shallow. Do you think Lover boy knows?" I shrug, pretending to think about it. "Either way, it doesn't matter. He'll never be finding out now."

Her blood-soak lips tremble at my words but she catches them and stops herself.

I decide it's probably time to end her pathetic, miserable life before she dies from blood loss. What would be the fun in that? Her head is still dripping blood, her neck and lips likewise. I take out a larger knife and throw it from side to side for a while. Taunting her. Letting her know that this is it. This is the end.

I take the tip of the knife and drag it down her chest, her face screwing up in agony, her heart pounding. I pause when the knife is hovering over the centre of her rib cage and look in her eyes, my nostrils flaring.

"You really thought you could win, don't you?" A laugh emits my mouth, though it's humourless by this point.

Fireface, lays her head against the ground in defeat but continues to stare up at me. When she speaks, her voice is no more than a scratchy breath.

"Don't."

It's too late.

I punch my fist against the handle of the knife and it sinks through her body beneath me. I don't stop until I feel it reach the muddy ground beneath us, then I rip it out again. Her whole body shudders as I remove the blade and at first her eyes go wide and blank but they soon drift shut with a flutter.

A huge growing circle of blood appears below me and I roll off of the limp, cold body.

Katniss is dead.

I scurry to my feet and scowl at the unmoving corpse in disgust. Girl on Fire? I think not.

I glance to my left and see Thresh's body drop the floor in the distance, Cato standing proudly with his knife raised. I grin at him across the plain. We are going to win the Hunger Games, just as we've always dreamt of.

Two canons boom, one after the other. The sound echoes through my head and I glance down at the body on the floor one more time in victory.

Katniss Everdeen, The Girl no More.


End file.
